The Wretched

by Brad Carsten

  “Well, he did, and now Fayre is almost dead because of it, and I can’t go back to her because I don't know what I'll find.” His voice cracked. “Right now, there's hope, and if I don't see her again, I can pretend that everything worked out, but...” He shook the thought aside, and his face hardened. “The next time you make a decision for me, you’d damn well better bring me into it.” he turned that glare on Kaylyn. “The hunter was after you, not them. You should have been there to protect them. They were scholars in Corgin's name, not soldiers.”

  “What do you want me to say?” Kaylyn’s voice rose in anger and in pain. “That I should have been there? You don't think I know that already? You don't think I know that I'm the reason your village was destroyed, or that my escort was killed or that the hunter attacked the camp, and that Fayre was hurt? I know that. I know that.” Her shoulders slumped, and the fight drained out of her. “Every day more people die because of me, and I just can't escape it. No matter how hard I try to be good, and kind, and—I keep hurting people.” She wrapped her arms around herself as though she was cold.”

  “Alright, that's enough,” Liam said. As much as he wanted to despise her right then, he felt a tinge of guilt over what he'd said. “Look, we shouldn't turn on each other now. That doesn't help anything, and that won't stop the watch from coming after us. Right now, we need to get back indoors, and then out of the city come first light, or we'll all end up on the gallows. Let's find somewhere safe, and we can figure out the rest later.” Quinn’s mouth tightened as though he had more to say, but he didn't push it.

  The fog in the northern district wasn't quite as thick as it had been in the lower reaches of the city, but it was getting thicker by the minute.

  It may have been better to hide in a poorer district, but after what happened, that would surely be the first place they'd look.

  Liam wondered if word had reached the gates? Either way, they'd be closed by now, and by the following morning, the entire city would be looking for them. That was a worry for later though. Right now, they had to get indoors.

  The back streets were just as deserted as the Linicus quarter. Liam kept an eye on the tall windows around him, taking him back all those years to when they first entered Gosspree-nor.

  They passed more than one dead vine, which, he was sure, was covered in flowers only hours before. He wondered if it had something to do with Kaylyn drawing her power, but how could the effects reach all the way into the northern district? She couldn't have drawn that much power, surely.

  When The Rearing Pony drew into sight, a group of men—no, soldiers were exiting the inn, and the Captain, with his plumed helmet, stood out in the street talking to the innkeeper.

  Kaylyn slowed. “Do you think they're here for us?”

  “I don't know, but I don't like it. Either way, we can't turn around now, or they'll know something's wrong.” Liam took her arm. “Keep going, and we'll take the main street.” It offered a clear view of the inn, but they didn't have a choice.

  Whispers began spreading through the men, and when Liam looked again, a few of them were looking directly at him. He could have sworn they’d raised their shields a touch, and that they held their weapons a bit straighter than before. One of the soldiers had wandered over to the captain, as though trying to be casual about it. What happened after that was lost in the swirling fog. At least the wretched had a fierce enough reputation to keep them from coming after her directly, but it wouldn't last.

  A man stepped out of the shadows. Liam reached for his knife, and Quinn raised his spear.

  “Princess Kaylyn?” The man inclined his head. He wore a mottled grey cloak that hid him well in the fog. “They have every soldier in the city looking for you at the moment. I can take you to Loretta Hollis, but you need to hurry.”

  He stepped away and looked frustrated when no one followed him.

  “When word reached Madam Hollis that you were in the city, she put a number of men out to look for you. Word arrived from the Old Noose tavern and—” he cleared his throat. “I saw what happened with those men, and it's not going to take them long to find their courage and start peddling the story, so if you'd allow me, I can get you to a safer spot, but we have to go. Now.”

  He’d followed them from the tavern? In the forest, Liam would have sensed him right away, but in the city, with so many people clustered together, there was too much movement, too much going on.

  This time, the man didn't wait for an answer before turning back into the fog. With that gray coat, he was all but hidden within a few steps.

  “Do we trust him?” Quinn whispered.

  With the soldiers behind them and the gates barred, Liam was all out of ideas. “I don't think we have a choice. Just keep your eyes sharp.” They could take Kaylyn with a well-placed arrow, and after that, he and Quinn wouldn't stand a chance against even a small group. At least the fog was thick enough to hide them from anyone waiting on a roof with a crossbow.

  A river split the city in two, bringing in a lot of trade from other countries, but there were no ships out at this time. A captain wouldn't risk sailing in so much fog. Instead of leading them over the bridge, the stranger led them down a steep flight of steps to the river wall.

  As in the Linicus quarter, the back entrance to some of the more magnificent buildings had been built with a lot less care. The doors, old and swollen, must have led to storerooms or servants' quarters, but there were no signs to say for sure.

  The fog, rolling in off the river, was even thicker here. It settled into their clothes and hair and Liam drew his cloak tighter around his neck to keep from shivering. With so much fog, they were forced to bunch together to keep each other in sight. If anyone wanted to attack, now would be their best chance.

  Dirty patches of wall, and paint stripped doors faded in and out of view as they hurried along the narrow walkway.

  Behind them, Liam caught the patter of many bootsteps.

  The stranger glanced back with a worried look in his eyes. “Hope failing, that was fast. Come on. It's not far now.” He led them up a short flight of stairs, to an old door that opened into a dusty storeroom. There was nothing to distinguish the building from any of the others, and Liam wasn't sure he'd be able to find it again if he had to.

  The storeroom was dark. Liam hesitated. They could be walking into a trap. He had no idea who the stranger was, or if he even knew Loretta Hollis, but the bootsteps were getting closer, the sound now echoing off the buildings. He could either take his chance with one man or the group of soldiers coming up from behind. “Hurry, hurry.” The man urged.

  Liam drew a deep breath and stepped inside. The building stank of fish. Nets hung over boxes and from hooks in the roof.

  The stranger shut the door, cutting out what little light made it in from the street lamps.

  Something scraped across the door, like a bar being slipped into place, and a few seconds later, the bootsteps clattered past. Shadows flickered across the crack of light under the door. There must have been a few hundred men at least. Liam and the others held their breath until the bootsteps faded into silence.

  The stranger exhaled. They weren't the only ones holding their breath.

  “They must have gathered half the watch,” he said. “It’s not going to take them long to figure out that we're no longer in front of them. Come with me. There's a ladder up ahead, but you’ll need to feel your way along the wall to find it. Don’t worry, you won't trip over anything.”

  Liam went first, running his fingers along the rough stones. He could hear Kaylyn’s heavy breathing behind him.

  There came a distant shout. The watch must have realised that Liam and the others were no longer in front of them.

  “They’re onto us,” the man said. “it’s not going to take them long to start breaking down doors. Let's hurry this along, shall we?”

  The stranger stopped when he reached the ladder, and Liam bumped into him. “Hold it steady, that's it.”

  He was th
e first one up, climbing deftly like a rat up a gang plank. A few seconds later, a trap door slid aside and a faint patch of light shone in through a hole in the ceiling. He disappeared through it and waved the others up after him.

  The ladder led into a tobacconist’s shop where cabinets of diamond paned glass displayed dozens of pipes, and giant bags of tobacco sat open behind the counter. The room had a sweet scent.

  The stranger hauled the ladder up, and slid a board and a carpet back into place.

  He listened at the front door before cracking it open and ushering them out into the street. “It’s clear. Let's move.”

  They were back in the main street, but by now, the fog had covered it completely, with smudges of light from the surrounding windows and street lamps. Liam couldn't even see his own feet.

  “Link hands,” the man ordered. “I can’t afford to go looking for anyone who gets separated.”

  He led them across the street into a side alley. Two more turns, and they were back inside another building. Liam, could feel the gates to the city, which told him that they were heading west. They crossed a few more streets, and passed through three more buildings.

  Each time the stranger would knock once, twice and then once again, and each time, someone hurried them inside without asking any questions as though expecting them. One man, a tall, elderly fellow, bowed deeply to Kaylyn and offered his best wishes for the kingdom.

  They finally reached a door in an alley that was so narrow, if Liam stretched out his hands, he could have touched both sides at once.

  A plump woman with grey streaked hair was waiting for them inside.

  “Princess Kaylyn? Thank fate you’re okay. I had every man loyal to the throne out looking for you. The watch has called in militia, but you’ll be safe for now until we can get you out of the city.”

  She took Kaylyn’s hand and dropped to her knees.

  “Please. No, please. Don’t worry about formalities. If not for your man here, we may have been captured already.”

  “Yes, Londer is the best we have. I’m not surprised he found you.”

  The stranger drew off his cloak and hung it on a hook in the wall. He was a thin, unkempt looking fellow that moved with cat-like grace, like someone used to slipping around unseen.

  “Please make yourselves comfortable,” Madam Hollis said. “I'm sure you're wet and cold. It's never pleasant being caught outside at night like this.” She added a few more logs to the fire.

  Londer hung a kettle over it, while Madam Hollis took a seat alongside Kaylyn.

  “Rumour was that you were looking for me. I assume you were looking for one of these.” She handed a small wooden box to Kaylyn. “I prepared it as soon as I heard that you were in the city.”

  “Oh, thank you, yes, that's exactly what I came here for. Thank you. You won't believe how much trouble the scent has caused me up until now.”

  She lifted out a rope of blond hair plaited with flowers, and slipped it around her neck, and her whole body relaxed, like she was slipping into a warm tub.

  “Well, that should take care of the scent, just mind you don't cast again until you’ve finished whatever brought you this far away from Lunthorton.”

  “Oh, I don’t plan to ever cast again if I can help it. But why are they after us?”

  Madam Hollis sighed, as though she didn't even know where to begin. “Look, the nightspawn aren't just attacking at random like animals. They are as structured and organised as any army. Those over them are generals in the greatest sense. They are striking with precision.”

  “I've heard that,” Kaylyn said. “That's why the war has gone on as long as it has.”

  “Precisely. It's a mistake to underestimate them or their intelligence. Do you know that we haven't had a single attack in Delwick—not in ten years since the war began?”

  Kaylyn blinked in astonishment. “How can that be? They've already spread to Faulton.”

  “As I said, it would be a mistake to underestimate them.”

  “But why wouldn't they attack here? Delwick funds much of the war.”

  “And that’s precisely the reason.”

  “I don't follow.”

  “A war that continues for this long begins to drain the lands of their resources, but when people are under threat, they’ll gladly tighten their belts and work a little harder, but what happens when there isn't a direct threat—when a nation is funding a war that hasn't touched them? For ten years, Delwick’s been stripped of its abundant resources for a war that hasn't threatened them. Yes, there are those who see the potential threat, but there is also a growing number who have become comfortable, like pigs being fattened up before the slaughter, who now question whether the war is their concern. If it hasn't touched them in ten years, why should it touch them in another ten. They've garnered incredible support among the people, so much so, that six months ago, a crowd of Dunlyn's supporters stormed the senate and killed those who were the most vocal proponents of the war. They've taken over the city, and the word is spreading. Forget the watch, when the people find out that the princess is here, there’ll be those who’ll try to use that for leverage against the throne. There’ll be others who’d simply kill you to make a point, and there are those who’d kill you for what you can do.”

  Kaylyn was astounded. “But why haven't we heard anything about this?”

  “No, I imagine the kingdom isn't looking as closely at itself as it’s looking at its enemies, which is why it’s so devastating. The Nightspawn haven't broken the kingdom shield in ten years—it's strong enough to hold, so long as resources keep flowing towards it. Cut off the resources, and the shield will crumble. Delwick isn't the only land that hasn't been attacked. Pathswich, Talondeor, Moradene and Polshire are also safe.”

  “Four of our largest regions,” Kaylyn said, quietly.

  “Precisely. They also almost all run along the borders of other nations. How difficult do you think it’d be for other nations to court those regions? The kingdom has a fierce enough reputation to have given anyone pause up until now, but rulers have large pockets and short memories, and it's only a matter of time before someone makes a move. And with the regions already separating themselves with the kingdom on principles, they won't even have to go to war. Other nations can shave off our lands through politics by simply promising them a better life, and the people will gladly follow.”

  Kaylyn paled with each word. “But if the kingdom falls, then who’d protect them? There wouldn’t be anyone left to stand in the way of the nightspawn.”

  “Precisely. If the kingdom fell, the nightspawn would sweep through the surrounding lands like a fire. It’d be a massacre.”

  As terrible as the thought was, something else, something far more terrifying had caught Liam's attention, and he broke into the conversation. “I'm sorry, but did you say Dunlyn's supporters?”

  “Yes Dunlyn Fletcher. He's a young leader, no older than seventeen or eighteen, but he's a powerful orator that can steer a crowd like His Majesty the King could. The man's dangerous. He announced himself just over a year ago and has already managed to gain a lot of support among the leaders as well as the people. He’s even gathered a number of knights to his cause.”

  Dunlyn Fletcher? Liam exchanged a look with Kaylyn. That was the name of the boy they'd rescued in Gosspree-nor—the future king. By the stunned look on her face, she was thinking the same thing. He wasn't trying to divide the kingdom; he was using the division to force his way onto the throne without waiting for Prince Thomwyn’s blessing.

  Chapter 23

  Kaylyn stretched her hands out towards the fire. The King's chosen one had turned on the kingdom like a wolf turning on its keeper. This changed everything. He was raising an army to take the kingdom by force, while Prince Thomwyn was engaged with the nightspawn. The prince was barely holding out and had already stretched the kingdom resources as far as they could go. He wouldn't survive an attack from both sides. Dunlyn would be counting on that. To make such a b
old move must mean that he didn't think that Thomwyn would surrender control of the kingdom once the war was over. At times, Kaylyn feared the same thing.

  But now, Dunlyn had played his hand and it was clear that he had written off diplomacy. At this stage, to seal the throne, he'd have to dispose of the royal line, or be hanged. Even with her hands stretched out in front of the fire, a shiver ran through her.

  However it played out, there'd be a lot of bloodshed before it was over. The only way to force diplomacy was to end the war before he grew any stronger. But how could she end a war that had dragged on for over ten years, where the best military minds in the kingdom had failed against an enemy that couldn't be bargained with, and was too powerful and too numerous to be stopped by force.

  It seemed impossible, but she had to force diplomacy at any cost, or everything she'd done would be in vain.

  She ran through the problem over and over in her mind, and kept coming back to the same thing: in order to change the ending, she had to go back to the beginning. She had to know what happened in Almswick.

  She touched her father's amulet. The best minds in the kingdom couldn't stop the war, but they didn't know what she knew. Light failing, she couldn't let anyone discover the truth.

  ***

  Liam watched Kaylyn out the corner of his eye, unsure what to make of her, but he would give anything to listen in on her thoughts.

  She stared into the fire for a long time before speaking, and when she did, she seemed even more troubled. “Madam Hollis, I'm afraid I may need your help again. Master Kempsdane always came to you for information. He said that no one was more connected than you, and I could really use some of that information right now.”

  “Why of course.” Madam Hollis took the lid off the teapot to stir it and the sweet smell of mint and honey filled the room. “I've always served the kingdom, which means your father, and now you and your brother, but I'm afraid that since the war started, I'm no longer quite as connected as I used to be. Too many people have been uprooted, and word doesn't travel as quickly as it used to. I'll help you however I can, but I believe that there are others that could be of better use to you now.